Voir Dire
by EOlivet
Summary: Out of all the uncertainties surrounding this woman, she felt the most confident about this.


Disclaimer: The characters you recognize described herein are the property of Hank Steinberg, Jerry Bruckheimer Television Productions and CBS. All other characters are my creation. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
Timeline: No real spoilers. Vague allusion to AYN, but that's about it.  
  
Rating: TV-PG. Jack and Samantha pairing implied.  
  
Acknowledgments: Special thanks to Anna, for making this the story it is now. Thanks to D for the idea and inspiration, and for her encouragement. Thanks to S for always being so awesome and supportive. And thanks to MSt: Best. Forum. EVER.  
  
A/N: While watching the "Commencement" episode of the West Wing, I was particularly struck by the conversation between Amy and Donna. It begged to be adapted for this show. So thanks also to Aaron Sorkin -- without his incredible writing, this story wouldn't exist. Also, I know according to FO2, Jack's wife is named Maria. But she was Marie in HSSS and TS, I believe. Quantity over recency. ;)  
  
***  
  
Voir Dire  
  
***  
  
"Agent Spade, are you in love with Jack?"  
  
The other woman had froze -- although to her credit, there was no visible shift in her demeanor. To a casual observer, she was simply startled by the question. However, she was being observed by someone who had been trained to read everything from the mood of a judge to the attitude of a jury, not to mention opposing counsel's next move. So it was obvious that the younger woman was clearly shaken up by the inquiry. Eyes widening...lips drawn into a thin frown...a slight blush rising in the cheeks, which always indicated guilt.  
  
It wasn't as if Marie didn't know the answer already. Good attorneys were supposed to ask questions designed to lead people into revealing a side of themselves they normally kept hidden. Good attorneys were also only supposed to ask questions when they were fairly sure of the answers. But out of all the uncertainties surrounding this woman, interestingly she felt the most confident about this.  
  
In the span of a few seconds, Marie watched dozens of different emotions cross the young woman's face. Bet this wasn't what Samantha Spade thought when finding out -- most likely from Marie's husband -- that the two women would be working together tonight.  
  
She'd already heard an earful from Jack, and she was sure he'd probably given a similar speech to Paula Van Doren. But there was no way to avoid it. The U.S. Attorney needed someone who'd worked the case to help fill in the blanks, as the government prepared a brief in attempt to wrest jurisdiction away from the state.  
  
Marie had actually found it mildly amusing that her husband and this woman were the primary investigators on the case in question. She'd flipped through the paperwork, read the reports and couldn't help but notice the date on the case file. It was after she and Jack had separated. She wondered about that too, but of course had no proof.  
  
Once she'd seen who had handled the case, Marie knew the two women would be working together. Even an estranged husband and wife working together was such a conflict of interest that the federal government couldn't ignore it.  
  
Still, she knew Jack would appeal to everyone who might possibly be able to stop this before he finally gave up and let this woman go. Giving up was not something he did easily. She knew that from experience. Although she often wondered if it would've been easier if he had. If they both had. But now was certainly not the appropriate time to think about this, especially since she'd be spending an evening with one of the myriad reasons her marriage had fallen apart.  
  
Despite everything that had happened, however, she was determined to be civil. It's not like she and Jack had a perfect relationship before this woman had complicated things further. She had no proof that was the cause of the separation, nor could she tell whether the other woman was merely an effect of a marriage already in trouble.  
  
But that all had to be irrelevant now, as she stood up in greeting. "Agent Spade." She extended her hand and the other woman shook it.  
  
"Mrs. Malone."  
  
Marie wondered whether she was just trying to be polite or trying to remind herself of his wife's role in Jack's life. "Do you mind if I call you Samantha? I don't like to get caught up in titles if we're going to be working together."  
  
The younger woman blinked. "Of course not."  
  
After an awkward pause, she had to add "You can call me Marie."  
  
A brief nod, and the two women sat down to begin what promised to be an especially long night. Samantha had brought her notes from the case -- all organized and in good order, Marie noted.  
  
"And do you have Jack's notes as well?" she asked casually, while jotting down relevant points from the other woman's notes.  
  
It wasn't as if the question was completely unwarranted. She'd read the reports, which summarized the case, but there were still two agents involved in it. They may have interviewed different witnesses, or observed different things of the same witness. Marie had one set of notes -- no one could blame her for wanting both.  
  
Except both she and Samantha knew it was hard to make that request without it seeming like an unfair surprise. Still, the other woman remained surprisingly calm.  
  
"I didn't bring them."  
  
Marie then explained the benefits of having both sets of notes.  
  
Samantha, for her part, listened and nodded before replying, "I'm sorry, Marie...I don't have them. I'd have to--" She stopped herself. "I don't have them."  
  
"Could you call my husband and see if we could get them faxed over here then?" Marie requested, as she continued to copy down the relevant points from Samantha's notes.  
  
When the younger woman didn't answer, Marie raised her head. The two women stared at each other briefly.  
  
Blinking rapidly, Samantha finally responded. "Jack-- your husband has sort of an odd filing system. It could take him a while to find the notes." She paused, before adding "You know, it might be better if you called him. I don't want to-- be in the way." Samantha stared at the files on the table and appeared to be concentrating intensely on them.  
  
For a moment, Marie didn't speak. "All right," she assented, retrieving her cell phone from her briefcase and punching in the numbers she used to know so well.  
  
"Yeah." The voice on the other end was distracted, always distracted...  
  
Marie glanced at Samantha, then continued "Jack, I'm going to need your notes from this case. Samantha gave me hers, but I also need yours, since you worked the case together."  
  
A small pause on the other end. "Everything that was essential to the case is in my report, Marie."  
  
"I have the report, but because I just have Samantha's notes, I only have her perspective on the case," she tried to explain to him. Marie glanced in the direction of the other woman, who was making an admirable effort to look occupied. "I also need yours."  
  
She recognized his exasperated sigh immediately. "I can assure you--" he hesitated. "Samantha's notes are the same as mine. We interviewed all the relevant witnesses together and there was no disagreement as to how the case was handled."  
  
He wasn't going to give in, but she wondered why he'd hesitated. Samantha. He hadn't wanted to say her name. But because Marie had used it, it would've seemed silly to call her Agent Spade. Then he would've looked like he was trying to avoid saying her name. Which she knew he was.  
  
"Jack, do you not know where your notes are -- is that it?"  
  
At this, Samantha did look up. She looked shocked. Oh, this had been some sort of breach of confidence. Samantha had given Marie that information, which was now being used to break down Jack's defenses. Interestingly, she couldn't tell if Samantha's quiet outrage was on a personal or professional level. Honor among agents -- or among exes?  
  
The silence on the phone indicated she'd caught Jack similarly off-guard -- although he seemed less unnerved than his subordinate. "I can try and locate the notes for you. But I'd need to talk to Samantha."  
  
He was giving her a choice. As much as she did not want to watch or listen to this conversation, she needed those notes for the case. And she was sure Jack wasn't simply withholding information. Unlike some things, his devotion to his job would ensure that he'd always do the right thing where work was concerned.  
  
"All right. Just a minute..." Marie covered the phone, her eyes resting upon the other woman, who had gone back to pretending not to listen. "Samantha, my husband wants to talk to you."  
  
Warily, Samantha took the phone. "Hello?...Yeah...No..." She was flipping through the file she'd brought with her. "No, it was before that...Yeah...No, he was never indicted, remember?...Yeah, around that time. File's dated August, but the case appeared to have wrapped up in late July...Yeah..." She smiled. "Right...Yeah, that's it...You have the fax number?...Oh-- right. Thanks."  
  
At this point, Marie expected Samantha to give her back the phone.  
  
"Really? And what did the boyfriend say?" Samantha's voice grew quieter. "I don't like him, he knows something...That's exactly what I thought. I think we should interview him again, see if he forgets some of his story this time...Yeah, good idea. His first class is over at-- 9, I think...Right...I'll meet you over there--"  
  
Samantha glanced over at Marie, as if only now noticing she was still there, "...Jack," she finished. "Of course. Thanks." She handed the phone back, averting her eyes briefly.  
  
"Marie?"  
  
He wanted to make sure she would still talk to him.  
  
"Have you faxed those notes over yet?" Marie asked, a little frostily. Maybe that wasn't fair, but the petty part of her didn't feel like being fair right now.  
  
"As soon as we get off the phone," he responded. She noticed he didn't apologize for his conversation with Samantha. He probably didn't have anything to be sorry about -- they seemed to be talking about work. Although she could never be completely sure that was all it was.  
  
Marie looked at Samantha again. "OK. We'll be waiting." It was very hard to keep the mild annoyance out of her voice. "Thanks." Shutting off the phone, she shoved it back in her briefcase.  
  
Samantha was looking at her as if expecting her to say something. Marie didn't say anything, as was her right -- continuing to make notes in silence. The younger woman started to get up. "I'll go-- check on the fax machine."  
  
"Jack fought very hard not to have you come here tonight." When Samantha didn't respond, Marie continued, "Are you working on a big case?"  
  
Samantha paused a moment. "We always have several cases at any given time," she replied, "as you must know," she quickly added.  
  
"We?" Marie clarified. "You and my husband?"  
  
For a second, the other woman looked as if she'd been slapped. Was she embarrassed at what she'd said or was the truth really that painful. "Yes," she answered simply, rising to leave once again -- presumably to extricate herself by locating the fax machine.  
  
"Sounds like a pretty important case," Marie remarked. "From what I could tell." That might not be fair, but Samantha had opened the door to this line of inquiry by continuing to talk about the case, even after the official business on the phone had ended.  
  
She also seemed to sense exactly what Marie was referencing. "An old case, actually. Teenage girl went missing five months ago -- we think her boyfriend knows what happened, but he's protecting the people responsible." Then she must've realized how that must've sounded. "It's not that unusual -- for an agent to be working a number of cases at the same time," Samantha insisted, a little defensively.  
  
This wasn't productive. Sighing, Marie prepared to drop the subject. "I'm sorry, Samantha -- this isn't about you." She flipped to a new page in her notebook, folding her hands on the table. "I've got the U.S. Attorney breathing down my neck for this information. It's been difficult to get cooperation from anyone on this case -- I'm just frustrated, that's all."  
  
Samantha seemed sympathetic, but guarded. "I'm sure Jack wasn't trying to make this difficult for you," she stated. "He has no patience when it comes to the U.S. Attorney's office -- it was probably more about that than letting me go for the night. But I know this wasn't personal -- Jack just...gets that way sometimes-- about work," she added.  
  
"Agent Spade, are you in love with Jack?"  
  
And there it was. The question that had been on her mind ever since Samantha Spade had walked through the door, and long before that, when this woman had unknowingly entered Marie's life. She hadn't planned on asking -- she wasn't sure she wanted to hear the answer. But there was something about the way Samantha talked about Jack, some kind of innate knowledge one woman should never discover about another woman's husband.  
  
She'd asked the question without looking up. She didn't have to -- or particularly want to see Samantha's face, as the other woman said exactly what she'd suspected and predicted. Once the question was out, however, she did peek at the woman to gauge her reaction. And of course, to be reminded of her answer.  
  
Samantha looked like she was searching for a response -- anything to break the silence. They both knew every second that passed without some kind of rebuttal only further reinforced the truth. "I don't see what that has to do with anything."  
  
The younger woman practically winced. It was the wrong thing to say and she knew it. Both of them did. Samantha's expression changed, as if she recognized the inappropriateness of her answer. And the feelings behind it.  
  
Hearing it out loud wasn't so much surprising as it was unsettling. "I made a general comment about how it's been difficult to get any cooperation on this case, and you automatically assume I'm referring to Jack." Marie tried to keep her tone even -- knowing she must've sounded like she was accusing the other woman, but finding it difficult not to want to know more.  
  
"We-- you had just spoken to him about getting the notes faxed. I thought that's what you were referencing."  
  
Did Samantha not understand how what she was saying could be interpreted? "I never mentioned Jack -- you were the one who drew that conclusion," Marie pointed out. "What makes you think I didn't already know everything you just told me?"  
  
Samantha blinked rapidly. "I was just trying to provide an explanation."  
  
"Do you think my husband doesn't tell me about how he feels about work?"  
  
Her brow furrowed, a sigh forcing through her lips. "That's not what I--"  
  
"You're right."  
  
She could tell Samantha was trying not to look surprised. But the slight raise of the eyebrows, eyes that had gone completely blank as they widened and the increased cadence of her breathing was a dead giveaway.  
  
Marie sighed. It hadn't made her feel any better, now that she knew everything for sure. Her suspicions had been confirmed, but she didn't even feel worse. At this point, it was hard to feel anything.  
  
"This wasn't meant to be a set up, Samantha." She let her guard down. "I think I just wanted to see how you felt about him. Since I'm pretty sure he's in love with you."  
  
Shutting the folder in front of her, she handed Samantha's notes back without further comment.  
  
A combination of recognition and muted shock settled onto her face. "Mrs. Malone..."  
  
Again with the title. Funny how strange it sounded. It now seemed like a role in a play in which Marie had been cast. An unfamiliar identity.  
  
She continued. "I hope you know it's over between me and your-- Jack. I know he never meant to hurt you or your family. Neither did I." She paused. "But it is over."  
  
Samantha's eyes were filled with resignation and acceptance. The same thing Marie saw reflected in her own eyes. For a man who wouldn't belong to one and couldn't belong to the other. Though she and Samantha were still in his life, he'd lost them both.  
  
"He's afraid," Marie declared.  
  
Samantha said nothing.  
  
Marie looked directly into the younger woman's eyes. Samantha needed to hear this. "If you don't know how he feels about you, he's afraid to tell you. He's never had a problem showing his feelings unless something really scares him."  
  
The other woman's lip twitched slightly, brow furrowing a little, eyes blinking back whatever emotions threatening them. "I should see if that fax has come in," Samantha rasped, her voice lost somewhere between interrogations, confessions and reality. She quickly rose and left the room before Marie could say anything else.  
  
Marie ran a hand over her face. It had come to this. Her marriage was in such bad shape that she ended up comforting, even sympathizing with her husband's mistress. Ex-mistress. Did it even matter? The other woman who had slept with her husband. Jack. Samantha. How was it possible to feel like a stranger in her own marriage?  
  
Looking up, Marie saw her entering the room, fax in hand. Samantha's eyes looked red -- had the woman been-- no. It was over. This needed to stop.  
  
"I can't--" Samantha was trying to say something, but clearly the words were elusive. In her hand, she clutched the fax. But something was off. "I can't read it," she confessed. "I see our names, but I can't make the rest of it out." She relinquished the fax, then stepped back a little. "Can you tell me what it says?"  
  
Marie hesitated, but quickly lowered her eyes to the paper in front of her. Involuntarily, she smiled -- her mind filling with images of a long-ago, much happier time.  
  
She cleared her throat. "It's an old form of shorthand," she explained. "Nobody really uses it anymore."  
  
Except for elderly law school professors, she thought, who teach it to their students so opposing counsel will never understand what they're writing. And law students who become lawyers and teach it to their boyfriends one evening when the power goes out in the city and it's either this or teach him how to speak French.  
  
"It says 'Marie and Samantha, Notes attached. Call with questions. Jack,'" she finished, shaking herself free of the memory.  
  
Samantha gave a slight nod. "Thank you." She practically mouthed rather than spoke the words.  
  
Marie had just turned her attention back to the notes when she heard a phone ringing. The two women looked at each other. It wasn't Marie's phone.  
  
Samantha withdrew her own phone from her pocket and answered it. "Yeah...Yeah, just now."  
  
Jack was calling Samantha to see if the notes had gone through.  
  
"No, I haven't...When did they say they saw her?"  
  
No, this was about a case. Mentioning the fax was just convenient. Marie tried her best to refocus on the notes in front of her.  
  
"That's not what the boyfriend said...Well who do you think has the bigger motive to lie here?...Maybe we should bring it up, see how he reacts?...Yeah, and I think it might shake him up a little bit...OK...Of course. Marie?"  
  
She looked up to see Samantha, her hand covering the receiver. Eyes bright, cheeks slightly flushed, breathing a little faster than normal. Excitement. Happiness. You never forgot those characteristics. Even if you hadn't seen them in a long time.  
  
"Jack wants to know if you want to tell him anything."  
  
Do you realize she's in love with you?  
  
How do you not remember how to talk to me today, yet you still recall something I taught you 15 years ago?  
  
If you won't love me forever, will you at least stop lying to me, to yourself, to everyone around you?  
  
Can we stop pretending now and let this go?  
  
"No," Marie replied. "Thank you."  
  
The End. 


End file.
